Fear For the Worse
by MegaEternalBliss
Summary: Following after the encounter of Maya, Krieg journeys into area to area in search for her once more. Can he keep all of his sanity in place or will he decided to go with a bang?
1. Chapter 1

Fear For the Worse

It was past dusk and our shadows are more than obscure. Too bad it's freezing a lot worse than any other place in Pandora. Then again, it is called the Tundra Express. But nice was definitely the word for this quiet night right now, unless something uncanny occurs... like usual. "Bored….. Really bored… So bored…. Extremely bored….. Super bored…... Hella. Fucking. Bored.! AAHhh! Hahahah, let's rampage ALREADY!", the damn superior meat lover blabbers on and on and on, helping himself to self-inflictions, but at least he knows better than to go any further than that. A sigh couldn't be more appropriate. _Remember what you get you idiot. As long as there's no non-innocent person around that deserves a buzz saw to the skull, you stay clear from killing anyone else._

"RWAR! Shut it! Shut it! SHUT IT!" Knowing no better, he hits "us" to the skull repeatedly with the blunt edge of the buzz axe. Good to know our wander's solo; the company would've been a painful experience. "We should've bathe that lady with her blood and join her but no soap!" _Heh_, glad it was too late for that idiot to not do so. But man, she was something. Capable of obliterating my very being, she acknowledged my existence. Maya was the very first person to ever give me a chance at showing how I could still be somewhat human. We could've been with her, hoping this can solve misunderstandings and possibly make friends, yet 'Krieg' sought an opportunity on fishing out the rats. God, he has such a short attention span. Afterwards I never saw her again.

Just when I was about express my pretty queer and poetic admiration of the tolerant Siren, an active light caped with smoke peep itself over the blue hue of the horizon. _Shit. Hey, don't you dare think ab-!_ God damn it. I was too slow for the usher of carnage. He's too filled with glee that he sprints at an unbelievable velocity, roaring on his way to his comfort zone. _Great, just when I was finally able to persuade the son of a bitch to shower._

I can't help but sigh for a second time. All I could hear is my alternate personality guffawing at the people unlucky enough to face this suicidal warrior. I almost feel glad I'm not hearing their screams for mercy over the maniac cry of glory. "YOU SCREAM, I SCREAM, WE ALL SCREAM 'NIPPLE SALADS!'" Well, almost. Hmm. Now that I think of it, this lair seems very odd. Why are there stuffed animals lying around and strapped with decorations? Ignoring the commotion, I notice that the animals having blinking lights. It kind of looks like a…._ Alright, you have enough fun. Time to get the hell out of here. _Of course, my pleas pass right through the psychopath's mind.

There's one bandit left and he's out of ammo. The fear on his face is apparent. He knows he can't escape. To think I was sold out by my members of thieves to a bunch of Hyperion pricks for a cheap exchange. He finished the unfortunate man by tearing him limb from limb with our mutated arm, taking in the climax of his high. _Ugh_, I taste the blood sliding up and down in my throat thanks to 'Krieg' that keeps on laughing about all his sins. And then the stuffed animals release a long lasting beep.

Ya know, I just found something funny. Pandora's a pretty odd planet, 'cause no matter how high one falls from the sky you never end up hurt, let alone killed. And we were flying quite above any expectations. We even pass all the birds in the atmosphere. Then after so long, we finally crashed into a pile of lofty snow. My eyelids can't take the relentless abuse of being open, so I have the moment to rest and best hope in peace. What a horrible night to sleep in the god damn cold.


	2. Chapter 2

Fear for the Worse Chapter 2

I thought we'd be over with all these physical feelings, especially if it's pain. After all, I've taken so many shots, slices, crushes and incineration that my skin is probably as tough as a badass skag's hide. _ ...fucking painful... _ I can just taste my brain cells leaking out of my mind. Only my head hurts, but it hurts like a bitch in heat. And to make it more of a pleasant input, my arms are incapable of reaching to my temples, so it's good luck if I can rub it in softly to soothe it to a subtle degree. I can't see anything as well; someone must have covered my view. Both sides of my temple rhythmically beat away at my brain. It's like you're hammered, but in a bad way since I guess there're no pain killers within my vicinity for the aftermath. Speaking of being hammered, when was the last time I had a good buzz?

I miss the hard liquors which could have washed down 'Krieg's' fascinations of a shiny meat bicycle and making sure "pretties" will ride it afterwards. Now every time I see an alcoholic beverage, my psyche roommate simply smashes it with someone's skull, wasting what would've been my purest sanction. So how long has it been: 2, 3, 5 years? Crap, my brain's not much use when all you can think is this never ending pounding through the scalp to the cranium. Hell, in fact, this painful sensation is exactly like I'm being clobbered by one hell of a solid fist. "Come on bitchy face! Your ass is mine you hear my call or ya'z wanna try out my crumpets?! Don't bet your Bitty-BUTT is any decent shape to take me on." It's hard to tell, but it's clear that the owner of this constantly tone shifting voice is from a female adolescent. God, this is just too good to not think about. Why is there a child on one of the most perilous and bio hazardous locations in the whole galaxy? _**I'll eat your NEPHEWS!**_ _Oh no, Look who finally decides to come in without an invitation.*sigh*. Kid, please run away. And Krieg, good timing as always._

"Eat my pain! Or better yet kill me! SHOW ME THAT EXPLOSION OF LIFE LITTLE LADY!" Maybe this could be my solution; maybe she can kill me. She could end it all and leave me in dusts and ashes for the sake of anyone that hasn't attempted to be involved. But she saved us in what could've been one bad nap. For once in a long duration of mental conflict, none of us can even move a millimeter. The only difference now is the idiot yapping away at the silhouette. And while he yells for release, the girl, if I'm right with this eye all covered, is just standing there, probably staring with deadly intent. _Look, I know you're not the man that'll conjure up rational sentences, but listen. _"I CAN'T HEAR YOU! LET'S STRIP HER FLESH!" _Please, shouting 'I can't hear you' doesn't assist you on getting rid of me. __I'm tired of arguing with you. You know that you're at her whimsy. You just can't accept it, can you? _It does look like it'll be a long shot but maybe the psycho will comply with my warnings. "NRRAGH! WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" _You know what I want. I want- "_NOT YOU!_" …..Oh?_

After what would've been the longest silence, the blurry silhouette took off the eye barrier. We can see her now and stare intently back at her. And I was right. I'm lying on a moderate size bed. She's nothing more than a little teenager that probably had nothing else to do but replace birth names with words relating to rear ends. She's about 5'4 and wears washed up clothes that are dulled out. Her mask rests on her left side of her head and it appears to be from a psycho. Man, I thought that they were like me, but it was kind of obvious that we're both incapable of a friendly conversation. Instead, buzz axes fly off to both directions, risking limbs. While I was trying to reminisce past slaughters that truly deserve my justice, I nearly forgot about my situation_. Right, back to my analysis._

Her face tells me she's seen enough bloodshed that'll out match anyone who crossed into war. With her dark circles of eye bags and maniacal smirk, I can see that she's restless but eager with whatever she can fathom about. "You done with yourself talk? Suckaaa, you came in with your chiseled badonkadonk and slaughtered my play mates. You know how mad you made this MOMMA!?" She emphasizes her anger by elbowing right on my solar plex. _Mph! Shit I felt it. Krieg you better hold those chunks of yours._


	3. Chapter 3

Fear For the Worse Chapter 3

It's been a while since I've been simultaneously kept under control and pampered with such courtesy. I mean, what else is better to do than be strapped on a wheel chair that doesn't even have wheels and be introduced to a generously decorated jar with some bug in it that's probably dead and a doll with a head that may as well not be there? Nothing I tell you, because it all makes sense if it's some pubescent kid with a little daft attitude pulling the strings. A word that can suite this predicament would probably be cozy at its highest. The only thing that challenges my focus is_ how is this considered a tea party when we don't have- _"TEA BAGS ALL DAY ON YOUR CORPSE AND YANK YOUR TEA BAGS OUT AND SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!"_…..As always, good timing._ Surprisingly, that almost sounded like a decent sentence. Maybe without the idea of mutilating someone's testicles, it could've been what anyone would say "badass" rather than "What the fuck?"

We maybe a heavily damaged man in terms of mentality, but even I know my exterior counterpart would not go as low as to end a life of a lonely girl. Oh, what the hell am I saying? We're at an obvious disadvantage here. That Tina really knows how to tie a knot. And speak of the "angel"; she's skipping around the table, humming to herself like she's in such a great mood. Well I'm glad for her, but where's my remnant of her happiness? Is she scheming for my demise? Do I have to submit to humiliating commands? Can I finally have my peace? And by peace, I mean death? The patterns of her skips soon slow down. Then she turns in front of my direction. That's probably the straightest face I've ever seen in my life. Actually, it's the very first straight face I've ever seen considering how Krieg ends up rearranging them to his favor.

"So Why?WHY?WHY?WHY?WHY?WHY?" the gal repeatedly question with the word "why." She inquires so quickly that it almost sounds like a rhetorical question. I wondered how long she can keep this up?…..._Shit, when will it end? _We've been at this mess for more than minutes can handle. Does she even use a period in her sentences? Almost like a broken record and with no off switch. Then again, whoever says my friend here is any more patient? "DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!" _Yeah, she's not alone._

After what appears to be for hours, she and Krieg finally stop their chanting and she took a seat right on the table. _This is definitely no tea party_. "Alriiight Shawty, here's another go. Why ya here? Haven't met anyone around this joint that ain't afraid of this gurl." This Tina girl is unfortunately no joke; she's juggling our sticks of dynamite like an ace while they're lit. _Krieg, you know you can't be reckless, and you don't have much to gain here. _"So!? Salting the wound solves everything!" _You imbecile. She's the only person that can be our key to getting out of this wreckage. _"Wreckage is the pleasure of agony!" We can only continue this feud for as long as I can count the seconds we'll have left in her humble abode, but at the corner of our eye, she's staring at us. At a scene too soon, one of the dynamites almost reached their exhaustion. In what would be an instant, she tosses them right behind her. *Boom!* goes the explosives. Badass much?

A true smile is one of the rarest resources in Pandora. I only found two so far: one from Maya the Siren and the other from Tiny Tina, the world's deadliest 13 year old. "You know what, I like ya! How 'bout it? Work for the QUEEN, and you get the promotion of a Motha Humping life time." _A promotion of a life time huh? Sounds like music to my ears. What do you say stupid? _"You're no queen! This isn't a castle! And I'd rather snort a knife into my brain!" Krieg never was a business man. Can anyone say "we're screwed?" "HAHAHAHAHAHHA!" the girl's cackling in such a radiating way. She tumbles over onto her back and kicks the air in a swift seamless cycle. She actually likes us. We can possibly leave and have a second chance to find "her". Then out of nowhere, she's back her feet and took out a knife from her skirt. "That can be arranged bitch face." _Heh, that's what I'd get for having my hopes up._


	4. Chapter 4

Fear For the Worse Chapter 4

Silence: another word for such a situation. It was a showdown of staring and stillness. A lethal little gal versus a therapy required barbarian. An explosives expert versus a self-exploding maniac. An African, childish, British and psychotic accented girl versus an incoherent, frantic, persistent and STUPID persona of mine. Eyes versus eye. _Hey, don't you want to say something not related to poop?_ No reply was message back to me, except for maybe a grunt or two. _But wow, all this time I've tried all of my methods of making you shut up for more than a minute and it failed. But when it's a staring contest to a kid that could possibly be as irresponsible as us, you'd shut your trap for more than my expectations._

By the looks of it, Tina's had her fun for the day, so she drops her small hand held blade. Krieg is still silent to my amazement. "Hmmmm~, hmmmmm~, hmmmmmmmmmmm~….. I guess I won't shank your ass, so as a reimbursement, I shall smack one's face with RAISIN COOKIES!" Right there, she takes out a handful of those raisin plague goods, slightly tilts our mask away and crams them in our box. And just like that, I'm breathing in bakery crumbs. I don't know where she got these, but it got rid of my reeking breath of blood. It's the second biggest relief I've had since the day Maya helped us on getting rid of the rats. "I want iron, NOT SUGAR! Unfasten these shackles and give me my Meat stirrer!" He should have chosen his words wisely.

Her innocent appearance flashes back into our eye, skipping around again like there's no tomorrow, or no tomorrow for us. She reached to her destination: the garage. It's slightly ajar, so her skipping drowns there and devolves into kneeling under for access. "'Cause that's how I roll." She confidently says. "YOU CAN'T ROLL BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT A CYLINDRICAL PRISM! OR A QUEEN!" rants Krieg like the blind critic he is. But enough about him. I wonder what she's planning. Later, I can hear it: the rusty metal marking its territory to the concrete rubbles. Didn't take long to figure out her aim. My trusty buzz saw axe or Krieg's "meat stirrer" has step up to test its performance, so seeing her dragging my dear and close sharp companion makes me desire her to treat it with some respect. I want to tell her that we're not a completely horrible person. To tell her that our gore starving instrument only eats those that are justified by common senses of ethics. Thankfully, she lifts its head up and flicks the rounded utensil, motivating it to spin smoothly. "Well since you want it so badly, here you go!" She grips the axe's end of the handle and swings it with all her body weight, which probably isn't much, but once she lets it go, I witness only a blur of stained crimson.

I got knocked out, but I don't feel the pain. She got quite the arm to throw a pretty heavy duty weapon faster than my nerves to it pick up…. It's cold. The Tundra Express is cold. The Tundra Express is too cold for me to sleep upon, so I wake up, tired and alone._ Hey, no more games. You know what to do tough guy. _Nothing. _Wake up, it's not 'sleeping in the god damn cold' day._ I perceive no sounds from my perpetrator. Only wind runs through our eardrums. I actually woke up alone. Alone, without my stronger persona's company. This is unbelievable. My first time to loosen up. I inhale deeply, concentrating on curling my fingers or toes. It was simple to move my eyes, so I watch my hands to see if they'll respond to me. And they do by bending in cooperation. Yes, I can control my muscles. It's the perfect chance, but I'm absolutely restrained with tight ropes around my arms, legs and abdomen to the stationed chair. Doesn't matter. If Krieg's temporarily out of commission, then I should be capable of controlling our body. No, it's not our body. This is _my_ body. I'm Krieg now, not him. Sharing cannot be an issue though; I need to act.

For starters, I have to check out my surroundings. In front of me is a table inscribed of a toon like cat. Like that's any good use to me. Turning my head to the right, I saw the closed garage. I hear her snoring in there; chances are that she's dreaming of her playmates: Sir Reginald and Princess Fluffybutt. _Bet it could've been an adorable sight to behold. _Again, I was vulnerable to the brink of only making barks and no bites. But I'm glad she didn't take away my life. Who knows what I would've missed. No time for appreciation. Frantically, I look down, hoping my prized axe is close by. God, how stupid can I get? It's right on my lap, laughing at my efforts in search for it.

This is all I need to get myself out of this lair. Slowly but gradually, I rock back and forth, like I'm on a sturdy swing. Sooner or later, balance and gravity combined will evaluate my results and as I thought of what else to do afterwards, it did. Too bad I didn't land on my back. _"Ouch."_ I groan as I kissed my mask thanks to my odd posture. I'm finally able to speak, yet my very first word I said is "Ouch"? _Smooth, you idiot._ Calling myself an idiot didn't help but it makes me know that I'm at least apart from Krieg. I maneuver my neck to any possible angle to find it. I looked down again, finding the damn thing neighboring next to my right hand. The blade's so close; my cuticles can tap on it, but not close enough to pull it in. _"Well that's just perfect."_ Man, it maybe sarcasm, but it's good to hear my voice that's not from him.

It must've taken plenty of action, seeing as how I can see my sweat dropping away from my arm. It worked out though; my painstaking hand got hold of my ticket out of here. Locking the rotating features, I cut strand by strand; feeling agitated every second my fingers slip. The last support got cut. The hard part's finally over with and now no barrier will get in my way. Manipulating my body to my preferences was difficult enough. It's acting by second nature, for I hack away the cables like a mad lumber jack. Are there still even lumber jacks today? _Why is it always questions with me?_

The last of the restricting cables falls to the floor. I stand slowly, sensing my weak knees coming to some halts and stillnesses. I'm_ free_. I repeat myself but with my voice this time. _"I'm free."_ I sound normal. For once I sound like I'm not a hostile guy. I still look like one unfortunately, but remove that tone from the other Krieg and I simply sound grumpy is all. I don't know when he'll come back. I just know he'll come back, now and forever on. Winds got stronger and some piece of paper descends from the air, landing perfectly in the middle of the table. Well what do you notice, it's for me. At first glance, it looks perfectly much like a piece of paper, but now it's on my hands. Crumpled, torn, blotchy and sullied of wet substances that I honestly can't believe the paper received such an abuse. The writing's not accommodating much either. Who the hell writes now and then? At least it's legible. I cock my eye, ready for the severe outcome.

Dear Mister Bitchy Butt Muncher Face,

You're alive, oh my god! Damn son, you only got a scratch or whateva, so I wash the red crap out your butt. Ya got my congrats ho. You lucky, lucky, lucky guy you! Anyway, uh…. I'm off to a distant world where I'll see a new perspective and yatta, yatta, yatta with my Vault ladies! In short, dancing on dead people. So don't think you'd be hearing me, but I made you ma homie so your thanks better be chocolate chip cookies! Okay, I got bored and I made our echo communicators wirelessly connected to mine, so yeah. I'm done…..I. Hate. WRITING! AND YOU BETTER COME BACK AND PLAY SOME BUNKERS AND BADASSES!

Love and AWESOMELY

The Bunkers and Badasses Masta!

P.S.- I sold all your ammo away. Apologies. :D

P.S.S.- I knew you can escape, I just don't care….. 8====D!

What a sweet little kid to go so far as to write a letter to an insane butcher. This must be premature, since she's currently dozing off in her garage. I don't know what those symbols from those P.S. lines are, but I guess it's a teen thing and I hope I adapt to it. I'm still disgusted by the damn thing, but I've touched worse, so I fold it neatly and set in my back pocket. I painfully trudge to the exit, to the outside fortress and pass the fortified gates. He's not awake yet. I finally have a journey to myself. I look back at her place of confined projectiles, missiles, stuffed suicidal toys, psycho corpses and tea parties. There's no way a kid in the beginning can survive an environment on her own. I whisper gruffly "_Whoever saved you from this world, helped you to make this home of yours and cared for you to ensure your safety; tell that person I said 'thank you'."_ She didn't hear that; I know. I turn again, back to the road where I belong. Each step I take makes a difference to me. Like Tina's skipping, my walk also has a rhythm to it. _Hmm, I wonder if I can whistle. _As I become more distant to the cold, I pucker my lips and exhale deeply, indulging what could be my last of rewards..._Wait a minute..."Vault Ladies?"_


	5. Chapter 5

Fear For the Worse Chapter 5

I couldn't do it. I really couldn't do it. That was my most personally embarrassing moment in history and I didn't have anyone to talk to about it. I had my body, know my limits of persuasion and can defend myself against any army of badasses with just my bloodied bare fists, yet I barricade my individuality from those Vault Hunters. I can recall the incident like a vivid dream or…. an unsatisfied memory.

5 hours since _(Yeah, it was that while back and I still paid attention to it up 'til now... Shut up.)_

The moment of truth punches me right through my facial camouflage. I put a stop to my walking, dead on the middle of the briskly road. _I can't believe it. She knew about them and what's more is that she's friends with them._ This is beyond an idea of good news. I remembered saying that no one's special, may they be famous, notorious or just staying alive. I figured even though I managed to escape the unpleasant clutches of Hyperion hierarchs; I believed many others faced a trial like that as well. But what I'm facing here is a blessing of a life time. Did Tina read my mind? Can this be the promotion she promised me? And am I more than special? I drop my head in disappointment, shaking it to strengthen my means. _"And why am I unconsciously advocating myself to keep questioning ridiculous subjects?" _This whole world seems to enjoy attacking me with inquiries that may as well be physical thrashings.

During the second I attempt to not self-loathe myself, I became aware of the scent of burning rubber and the sound of a well-oiled motor from a fairly long distance. How I can smell even the faintest of scents and hear the quietest of whispers was out of my general understanding, even though my daily diet was bandit guts and expired rations while all I abundantly hear are screams of Krieg's victims. My direction is far away from Tiny Tina's home, but running purely on wild instincts, I can tell the vehicle is going at her location. Not another too soon, I jerked to a straight reversal and dashed back, almost wishing the half of me is awake. Technically, I haven't fought in decades; not ever since I became a deserving leader of revolutionary bandits. I'm still pretty ticked off about being merchandised to the Hyperions just to let you know.

The damages I received from the intense explosion and the fierce knockout by the tiny girl earlier didn't recover, so I continue to feel my bones and muscles ache, numbing itself later to seize any movement. Every second counts for me to reach my desired destination. My lungs gave up on cooperating with my larynx, focusing only on breathing. So all I could really do is think of my prayers rather than declare them. _You may be an expert on deadly footings, but I can't risk any possibilities of what will happen to you. Kid, you better be okay._

I feel like I was running on a never ending track mill. God, how far am I? Tired is now the third word of the day and hopefully not for long. If Tina was anyone one else, I wouldn't give two number 2's about this! I nearly reach my limits, but it I guess it seems worth it. The tip of the fortress finally reveals itself and I see the vehicle parked further apart from it. This isn't good at all. By the looks of it, the heavy armored car with dangerous attachments such as a turret, mine layer and blasters is a Lancer, originating from the once highly trained private military force: Crimson Lance.

I ready my pistols, rifle, anything that can assist, but then I just smack I shit outta my head, forgetting that Tina sold them for pocket change. I have my buzz saw axe at least. I try to hold back saying this, but it's a lengthy habit. "_Close enough." _Jut saying, but it sounds way cooler with me. The fortress opens conveniently. This was almost frightening to me. I faced death right in the face as much as my other Krieg would spout out the word "meat", but that was when I was alongside of insanity. I hear heavy steps; probably more than four people. _Okay, by the count of three. This has to be timed correctly. _Why I'm talking to myself? Easy: it's to see if the idiot would pop back to reality or not. Too bad he didn't; he'd gladly go along with it as long as he gets to taste some fresh flesh. _One. Two. Three! _I blindly charge at the gate…. _Mental Note: never charge blindly unless you're deranged Krieg._

Being a Vault Hunter used to be my goal. That was what I really wanted to do for my profession. To do so, I performed strategic actions to fight, steal, and improve on weaponry. But I have my morals as well. And to prove it, I helped people in dire need, acknowledged to follow orders, learn the ways of mixed arts in close combat and most importantly, kill the sinners. I achieved so much that surely I could be the best out there to find the alien artifacts while I express my delight to do so. There shouldn't be anyone on this planet that could beaten me as long as I try. That was the arrogance I yearn to disappear if given the opportunity, for I see the light. And by light, I mean bullets. And by bullets, I mean bullet flying towards me.

Thank the Guardian Angel; the shield lasted long enough for me to side roll to a bulk of amassed ice. It was a glimpse, but they weren't who I thought they were. _"Vault Hunters" _I whispered it out to myself. So my hunch on Tina's "Vault Ladies" is true. As I mentally mention her, I hear a loud and brave female voice. "YEAH! My first dead person to stomp on that hasn't burst into little bitty bits!" _Oh wait, that's Tiny Tina._ Never mind then.


	6. Chapter 6

Fear For the Worse Chapter 6

I'm obviously not in the best of luck, for I can feel the light speed bullets penetrate at the boulder which I'm lying right behind. Agitated, my hand unconsciously grips the saw axe with enough vigor to believably pop the rounded blade right out of its helve. What's more, my skin pores push out an appreciate amount of sweat_. I'm scared shitless_, because the people that I'm about to fight are legit Vault Hunters, not biologically defected creatures, bandits or Hyperion soldiers, but a group with classified individuals that are masters of their own unique abilities. They're most likely in par with my skills, but this is definitely announced one-sided. It's one versus three or four. _Try to do the math._

"COME ONE OUT, COCKROACH!" the voice erupted in the air whiles the owner rages on the frozen boulder with blazing bullets, making my breathing stifling from inhaling the snow stuffed wind. Alright, if I think about it, no other person can shout like that except for the short and stout gunzerker: Salvador. _That's one to keep an eye out for._

"Ever heard the meaning 'Don't waste ammo'? We're going nowhere if you think one enemy equals all of your ammunition." Another voice dwindles in for dialogue. Guessing the people's identity by sound is starting to annoy the hell outta me, so why not find out by taking a gander? I shuffle low in the chilly frost and angled my head to the right side to finally see who they really are.

I see three people and I know one personally by slow and painful experiences. There's Tiny Tina in the background, carrying a gun that looks way out of proportion in comparison to her whole frame and two gun equipped guys in the front. The two Hunters pay no mind to my spying. Instead, their idea is possibly a change of target. Salvador's duel hands point down and his expression says it all. He's not happy. And the neighbor of Tiny Tina, Mordecai shows his trademark frown right back at him, saying he's not in the mood to argue. I went through so much crap from the sniper and his feathered pet; there may as well be records on how I triumphantly survived on his territory while my physical partner, 'Krieg', would cry out 'I'LL SWALLOW YOUR SOUL!' _Those were the days; you have no idea on how he was so close to head shots. _ The burly bastard turned to my defense again, but this time, he's packing some serious heat.

"Hey psycho bitch, EAT THIS!" the aggressive monkey quakes with anticipation and tosses his Tediore guns in front of me, igniting into an accelerated like blaze. Guns processed by Tediore are always described as "Cheap, plastic pieces of crap." and those details live up its status, but don't let that concern you. Once you're near the vicinity of its ignition range, I won't say it's not as a painful as one would expect….. It's much worse.

The shield was so close to recovering, yet all it takes is a small push of scorching leads to bring the capacity all the way down again. _This wouldn't happen if you replaced the useless thing with an efficient attachment. _I warn myself, not my other. And I almost missed that, but now I know something….. _I can't fight for Skag shit. _And I might have to say goodbye to the goals that I was so committed to. Decades of semi-silence and many more of barren conversations between a sane and insane man, altered my psyche to be an enabler. This is no video game; I'm a person that can still feel pain and more…. So why can't I take this any more seriously? Oops, I forgot that I'm in a pinch here. Where was I? Oh right_… ouch._

Having enough pain as there is, I leap away from the boulder and ready my legs to run for it. And so I did, run for it like a mad man. I didn't look back even though there could be a positive tolerance with me. Then I realize that I'm not being followed or shot down. *BANG*! One deadly force zooms right next to my neck and passes through into the white surface.

"HA! Where'd you get your accuracy from huh, a shit-vender!?" Salvador questionably laughs at his bitter partner.

"Shut your roided teeth! I just need a little whiskey." Mordecai retorts with a sloshing whiskey of Jack Daniels in his hand. _That's not gonna last long. Man, who care about them? I must get out of this piss bowl. So _I ran and ran 'til their shouts subsides.

Thinking that the distance will suffice, I stop and turn, looking at the fading figures in the misty Tundra of the Express. I think I'm safe for now. Inconveniently out of nowhere, something scrapes my scalp and dies off into the snow. _I know it's Pandora,being the most deadly and surprising planet of all but come on!_

With my unreasonable senses of hearing, a voice journeys in.

"For a psycho, you're a real PUSSY! Come out of where you're hiding OR ELSE I'M GONNA SHOOT ANYWAYS!" I was about to answer him mockingly, but I clearly doubt he can hear me from here.

There was only two Vault Hunters but no signs of Maya. And they're not who I would enjoy of their methods of killing a person, but I can't argue. I've killed more assailants with plenty of curiosity that it can be well deserve in the world's most disgusting ways to die, if there is one.

Coming back now is just stupid. I didn't even spoke out to them for a discussion. My lucky break is gone, and my journey anew. This couldn't be any more disappointing than anything so far. I really do need Krieg, and Krieg needs me to lead. Otherwise, no chemistry of surviving will occur for any of us.

I took one last gaze at the adolescent's fortress of "Doom" before my journey becomes farther off to the world. Worrying over a child is too unhealthy for my already irregular beating organ, but I recognize its caliber.

_Huh, what is that?_ I see a ship shaped model glide to the floor right between my feet. _Really now, a paper plane. Know anyone with that motive? _This time, it's cleaner and less illegible than her first attempt which, by the way, was just abhorrent.

Dear Escapee A.K.A. - Bitch Face

Yay! You escape, yay! And triple the yay for ticking my Vault Homies off. Why you came, I have no clue, but it's SOOOoooo~ sweet of you to drop by! And NEARLY DIED! But you lived…..lucky piss HEAD!** I'M NOT SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOUR ASS JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE SOME STUPID KIDS FR-** HEHEH, sorry about that. That's Salvador, my hairy butt friend. He's my height yet STILL I FEEL SUPERIOR than him WHICH is humping awesomey! And Morde-_ If you're that crazed idiot that went into my property, then I'll be seeing you in hel-_ …..Mordecai said hi. I'll cut short, visit me when I say so STUPIDO! Cool rhyme, am I right?

Sincerely,

Your Pimp, Tiny TINA!

P.S. - Here's my code for the ECHO Communicator. #!^%$ *!&^$ (!*^!* $*! (I'm too lazy to make up one) I accidentally mixed our codes up with someone you might not like. So whatever you do- do not take any chances of picking up those calls. Lataz!

Well, the writing's improved and my eyes ain't pocking out of my sockets, so I can say this was good read. Like last time, I fold the paper and shove it into my pocket with the other corrupted letter. _Yay indeed._ I survived without 'Krieg' at least. This can be a good start.

5 hours afterwards (Be gone Flashback!)

And that's what happened. I travel even further in search for the Siren, trying to rid the thoughts of failing such an easy task.

"I'm never back, because I was always here, digging into red holes and shovel without light. So how I see crimson is how I see you burrow yourself into me, my inferior being. We're even for now…I'M A SUPPORTING ACTOR OF A THREE-PART MEAT PLAY!" My prevailing personality released his poetic verses of random subjects, probably because he's bored. It was an hour ago that he decided he rested enough and sprang back into action, his first poor timing. We're currently near the town of New Haven, a town which was once named Old Haven. Understandably, this is no place to be if you're in need of contentment, yet this area perpetually stands with the luck of supplied waste that has actual worth. I went in easily with no distaste or satisfaction from anyone of my arrival. _So far so good._

"**Hey, you there!"** The electronic voice cries from behind me…_Oh God, please don't tell me.."_

"**Hey, hey masked man. I'm talking to you!" **There it is again, only closer. _No. No. No. Just No. Please no. _Agreeing with my loatheness, Krieg walks faster.

"**Come on, I'm DYING! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Help me please. I'll make you as my best minion than any human around! COME OOOOOOON!" **it wails even closer for comfort.

It finally decides it had enough of calling me, so it rolls ahead of us and stops right there in front…_..Fuck._


	7. Chapter 7

Fear For the Worse Chapter 7

Annoying, a word that matches for this intolerable CL4P-TP General Purpose Robot. He's a really annoying entity that steps in our way and Krieg doesn't have the energy to force it aside. Honestly, Krieg doesn't have the _necessary_ energy to heave the tin can out of sight, since we ran from the Tundra Express to this heap of a dump. So it stays there, in advance of our travels. Running or best yet sprinting would easily shake off the miniature iron man, but as long as our legs prefer to drag; we got no other option.

How I know about Claptrap doesn't matter. It's that everyone on this planet knows him, because he's is the embodiment of a semi-living punching bag. What's really concerning is how this troubling thing knows me. Did we, in some way save it, or did we also got involve with wanting to dismantle this mechanical drone?

"**You must listen to me future minion; I don't have much to go with time at all. Look at this!" **Claptrap demands my attention and corks out his mechanical eye, digging right into the socket after. If he was a heart pumping being; it'd be pretty gruesome for even my tang.

"**AAGEHEGEEHUEEAAAAAAAHHHH! Oh my god that smarts! This is almost as bad as being eaten by spitter skags!"** he dramatically bawls as he drags out circuits and cords, appearing very important for keeping his sense of logic. But he's stupid to begin with, and what do I care?

Finally what feels like hours; he takes out what looks to be some ruddy globe; the color unsurprisingly suits him.

"**This is a compatibility cell which enables my functions for mundane routines and it's dying out by each se-" **he halts his explanation, drops the globe and slams down to the floor. The cell must be his turbine as well. _You see what I mean, stupid._ Krieg bends down and checks the bot, raising the buzz saw axe to make sure there's so mishap for his actions.

"I see a perilous past but a derailing future, for I am going to SMASH YOU INTO IRON SALADS!" Krieg readies his favorite finishing stance, the golf pitch shot. This is what we can both agree to; rid this aggravating scum from this already aggravating world. _Farewell remaining robot unit and hello sunshine and lollipops._

"FORE OR FEEL SORE!" Krieg warns_. I doubt anyone wouldn't be feeling sore if they're near you._

"Now wait for just a moment sir!" The commanding call came from a man jogging towards us, almost staggering on our way. Krieg complies the idea, probably too 'pooped' to oppose. _Who'd think that even you'd be docile for a while? _The jogging man stops and we can finally tell who this strange guy is or at least I believe so. He stands average in height and is a little flimsy looking, but the very strong features would be the robotic arm and leg. He's simply nothing special if you ask me. The Handsome Jack robot that thought he was human; that's special.

"Thank goodness you've didn't insist on wrecking him yet." He thanks us. "Don't worry; you shall proceed this course after you do something very major. Oh where are my manners." He straightens his back and salutes with his artificial hand. "My name is Sir Hammerlock, one of the finest hunting extraordinaires!" the man proudly states himself. Funny, doing a formal greeting is like bitter candy to the people and to make it even more of a riot; he's welcoming a psycho. Must be encountering-foreign-comedians day.

"What does half-man want?" Krieg growls and probably spits, since I feel a drool clinging on our lips. _Manners, an Achilles heel to any psycho._

"Half-man?" the oddly dressed hunter gasps. "I'll have you know that I'm more than half a man, seeing is how I can comfortably confront pyschos such as yourself." _He means physically._ "But since you're as exhausted like I, I'll-how you say- 'let that slide'. My Jove, arguing to someone of having easy mental breakdowns (_You don't know the half of it)_ is making this dialogue down right dry, don't you think?"

He's talking to a madman. What do you expect, a fancy vocabulary packed stranger? Crap, nearly makes me want to shout-

"FAGGOT!" Krieg finishes my thought with all his might and points at him like he's seen a spiteful person. Not the right choice of words, but it's up there with my derogatory list.

"Well, your ignorance is of no surprise to me. In a way, yes, I happen to have relationships of the same gender, but we're in an era where distinct species is the new 'faggot' rather than a male or female having the carnal interests of their own sex. And I would find it more kind of you to say homosexual." He explains calmly, yet it I can see a sniping gun from his strapped back being slowly being pulled out for 'conflicting' reasons.

"*sighs* we're clearly getting out of hand here. I'll cut to the chase. I have money with an assignment on top of it that will surely interest you."

Money, our ears perk up quickly in response, well mentally. Cash, checks, coins, finances, currency…. riches. My old self is coming back to life; the past bandit in me is almost crying out of our heads…. _Do this assignment Krieg and I'll let you go to a certain arena where you can slaughter as much people of any category as you like. _And voilà, the real journey begins.

"TINGLE MY SPINE AND READY YOURSELVES FOR THE PAIN OF A MEATY LIFE TIME, WE GOT A DEAL! HAHAHAHA" he laughs.

"Excellent! Jolly good of you. But you have to be informed first about this invigorating mission before you endanger yourself, which in your case would be every chance you get eye contact."

_Well if you had bandits sniffing your tracks end eye humping your inventories, you'd do something about, right?_

"I file bodies into bundles and fetish sticks into levers and hearts into chunks, BUT I CAN'T FILE THE FACE OF THAT WOMAN! She's sturdy like my bicycle and fresh like gory aftermaths, and now… I'M LEAVING WITH YOUR BODY BAG!" he raves of her again, someone I don't really know of, yet he does. Who was she again? How does Krieg know of this person? Why only questions? _Man, it's frustrating being your damn conscience._

"Um, yes, well you do that to anyone but me. You still want the assignment or must I take my leave with the immobile dolt you're resting on?"

_This thing has a purpose?_ Krieg tilts his head, signifying his confusion.

"I know what you mean, but first let's begin. You will travel down to the Caustic Caverns from Sanctuary to find Purple. This creature is supposed to be an artificial Crystalisk by Handsome Jack. Hunt it down, and bring it to me, but you need Claptrap." He coughs the word Claptrap, making us think that there shouldn't be any problems.

"I see you're not dazzled by the term, but he is unfortunately the only unit that can access to the creature's hidden cave. And trust me on this, the reward is quite wondrous."

_Wondrous huh? Do this and you'll get your slaughter house for your cockatiel._

"Time for the rib-cage slaughter!"

"I suppose I can take that as a yes. Now let me take a gander at him." Hammerlock picks up the compatibility cell and delicately placed it into Claptrap. Seconds later, he rolls back to balance.

"**Ha-ha I'm ALIVE! Oh what's up Hammy?"**

"That's Sir Hammerlock to you, you cretin. Anyways, you'll be assisting this chapped fellow next to you." He stiffly points at us.

"**OOO, is it gonna be"** and when he turns around to face us **"-Holy Sphincters! AAHHHH, a psycho!"** next thing we know, he's rolling right behind the hunter. He's the one that approached us first, and now he's leaking oil. I'm starting to like this be-afraid-of-me routine.

"**Wait a minute, you're the person that I was about to make as an honorary henchman. For a crazy bastard, you seem stable. Welcome aboard!"**

"It'll be a Baptism of blood!" Krieg roars.

"**I leak, not bleed, so I guess we're pals. What do you say? You know what, don't say; I have a feeling it won't be good for my metal hiney."**

"Go lead before I strip your nipple salads!" Krieg orders him so while shooting at his rear end with a shotgun.

"**Okay!"** he responds enthusiastically, rolling away at high speeds.

"Have a badass trip, you badass you!" Sir Hammerlock waves away at a distance. As long as we have a target practice, it'll be smooth sailing… hopefully.

* * *

**Author's Note or A/N: I hope you readers enjoy this story. If not, then why the hell did you read up to this point? Anyways, this is my first Fanfic and I'm pretty damn proud of it. But I also feel that this story is going off track. So there maybe a possibility that I'll simply delete it and restart or leave it in a long hiatus. I'm losing a lot of inspiration, and I can't continue if I lose my ambitions. So if you like, please review and PM if you desire to add any characters in the story that Krieg should encounter. Now have a cool summer and R&R!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

Fear For the Worse Chapter 8

Having company is like having sugar coating over a brain tumor; it won't work out later, no matter how much you believe it can. Even if we're ever going to places that are never meant for silence, any amount of a party equals a chain-reaction of an unsuspecting catastrophe. I guess this is one of them.

"Savor the trembling squeals and stroke the VIRGIN-SABRES! CUT MY MOISTY PAIN AND VOMIT OUT YOUR SOUL!" Krieg presses with never-ending loathing of me. _You know I can't die until you do. And even if you do kill yourself along with me, who would care? _Faster than one would expect for a reply, he retorts back."Minute bacon can answer you!" Conversations like these never fly by as much as I would want. And what's holding up with Claptrap? _He's still not done opening the door? _Krieg adjusts his neck at the scrap metal bot and glares with deadly intent. From afar, Claptrap shudders and a few bolts and nuts clatter with every jerk. What an unsurprising reaction.

"**D-Do not panic minion! With my great skills, I will make you appreciate me so hard that you'll say 'I WON'T RASH SCRAPE YOUR FACE WITH MY FINGERNAILS!' and then I'll say 'Oh my god, you're very nice and I think we're awesome pals!' and then you'll be ticked off and say 'FOLD THAT FOIL MORE OR SO SUFFER DORMANCY!' and I'll say 'But I can't sleep because that would be a contradiction to my programming.' And then you'll bring out your weapons and… uh,**** …kill me…****.. I'll finish this in a jiff! HA-HA!... ... ah, I'm lonely." **I listen to him taking pity on himself and at the same time, try to not mentally hiss as Krieg morbidly cuts himself to 'numb the fluids'.

We've been in front of the entrance of the Caustic Caverns for a good minute or two. And the thing still tests Krieg's patience. Sweat, agitation and so much bloodlust works its way up to my muscled partner and no release is in any sight. Well there clearly is, but for some reason; he's labeled as a master at opening secured doors which is 'required' for this errand. _You'll get your way, but not yet. We wait. You hear me? And I'll be enjoying it 'til it lasts._ But I don't enjoy how the trash compactor acts even stupider by the second, even more so than my split personality which is saying something.

"**And with just a few screws to the left and right," **he tries to assure us that he's capable of opening gates and entryways with ease. We wait and wait, resting up the energy that'll be either used for this mission or erase 'you know who' to be the lonely stranger again. He's not proving up his proclaimed prowess by the looks of it. It's just a wheel to turn for the gate. How does screwing to the left and right do anything? _But don't ask me. I'm just a psychopath._

Not even bothering to stay silent any longer, the dynamites strapped to our thigh bag guide itself onto our hands. "WE'RE GONNA BOOM!" Nothing matters to him after as he lights them with all its glory. **"Gaahh!"** Claptrap rolls backwards and passes by us while crying out **"Why couldn't it open!? WWHHYY!? Why am I always hated!?"**_ Because you don't know how to close your damn mouth for anyone._

So like the angry idiot my physical assailant is, sparks flash, fires spread and ashes fall while Krieg embraces them all as he's inches apart from the action, feeling the burn. "EAT ME, RED BUBBLES!" Maybe a little too much burn_…. _

Yet nothing, absolutely nothing worked_._ He threw at least 25 ounces of incinerating charges that could take down a dozen Ultimate Badass Varkids, yet we couldn't even mark one scratch on this door. You know what that means, cause I sure as hell don't.

"Who made these leather rolls!?" My other half actually baffles himself. A mental palm strikes my face. _Did you honestly forget that you made them yourself?_ _And_ _are you done?_ He snarls and rejects my question by butting our head onto the closed path, but he no longer has any more explosives at his disposal. _I believe you are. _

Claptrap, quivering more than your average quiverer, rushes ahead of us to get back to business. **"Well, at least I don't have to repair your mess. So back to my specialty!" **He **"woo-hoos"**, feeling more confident of his competence compare to Krieg's best execution. _There's a wheel Krieg. Why couldn't you just march over and turn it?_ I feel dumbfounded later; the wheel was in the cross fire and now it singes red that has most likely meld into the rotation. _Great, we're gonna play the waiting game again. _Our teeth grits tightly, leaving a few chippings on the surface. If only we can do this more often.

"**oh oh oh! I think I almost got it… AAANND Ooopeeen!" **The iron doors slide apart from each other. _If only you can say this to him: 'That's amazing and so convenient of you. You opened it and it only took 3 minutes. I mean that is definitely quicker than twisting the wheel which would probably take a long 3 seconds or less.'_ too bad it's unusable now and we're too dumb to try it out earlier for ourselves… _tell him that for me, will you? _No guarantee he'll say the exact words, let alone the meaning. But who knows?

"A feast wired in nasals relating to FOSSIL POOP AND PLEASURE NEEDLES! hehahaerha!" his insults never sound more clear. We move forward. **"Onward my minion!" **And may there be stairs.

The Caustic Caverns rest as an industrial packed and damp swamp of unnatural hazards, but for no idea whatsoever; Krieg and I are more relaxed than the surviving lurkers in the acidic pools. I let out a sigh, but in a restful tone rather than disappointment. This area feels nostalgic, and cared for even though the mining facilities are slowly crumbling into the cesspool. Sadly, this didn't last… like always.

Claptrap relishes in bouncing up and down onto our designation which didn't help my friend's needs of wanting to bash skulls into another skull that'll fly off to clash with another skull and so on and forth. **"We're getting there and with you on my side, we're invincible!" **Strange how our time works; that didn't last long too. Not even halfway through the cave, we swiftly face enemies_._ To be up against Varkids, Crystalisks, Spiderants, Threshers and even those stalking Creepers, forces a shiver on my spine. They're everywhere on every corner, attempting to overpower us with quantity. And by the looks of it, it's possible they can. **"We're gonna die!"**

"yes.. No… YES! The murderer song approaches and it's playing like nasty lines of slicing and I'll TENDER IT TO STAY THAT WAY!" Our spine soon fashions from shivers into tingles, for it tingles in need of even more tingling. There's no stopping it; a day of no slaughtering is almost a year-felt torture of deprivation to him. I almost forgot that we forged a more durable melee weapon for this kind of occasion and I don't like wasting any good quality.

_Let the gun blazing and buzz saw hacking begin. Try not to let intestines fly off too far from home. _With pure impulse, Krieg dives low in the center of amassed Creepers and kicks them all away towards the neighbors, igniting them just as quickly. "Let me join too!" he straps dynamite around our torso enticingly. _God man, what the hell? I thought you ran out of that stuff you dirty con. _I can't even remember anymore.

_Not bad at all_. I hear cries from the useless General Purpose Robot and the go-happy cheers of Krieg as he tears the threshers a new one. Claptrap's going to disappear and Krieg will be content being bathed in spilled wounds. Great, killing two birds with one stone. But this soon sinks more along the lines of berserking on the crystalisks and saw raping varkids than finishing our objective. _Just lovely. Hope the rewards worth all this._

It wasn't as time consuming as I thought it'd be as we stand above any other flourishingly. The defeated were piled and stocked as one huge "Meat CASTLE! I ascend above thee!" _Yeah sure, dirty our feet some more._ Krieg literally climbs to the top and lathers more blood onto our dry skin. This is enough to make even the toughest of stomachs lose their appetites. But that was a small case. We reach the end of the slope, above about 30 feet or so. It's a sight to behold. There was so much mortality engulfing this landscape and the light of the contaminated lake draws out curious warnings, a great death-bed for the deserving. "I'm missing my skin puppet show!" _*sighs* Just shut up will ya? _

When we settled our differences for a second, we felt a weak grip on both our ankles, and it constricts the more we try to shake it off. We look down on our feet, and saw clamps that resembles something I know too well of. Unknowing of the object, Krieg quickly grabs hold of the handles and lifts them high like a treasured display. "I have shakers for barbeque sauce!" he shouts out proudly of his findings. **"Well I hate to break it to you pal, but I'm not a shaker. I'm one hell of a mean stirrer though." **The survivor of the wide ranged genocide hangs onto our wrist with desperate means of wanting to thrive. "We fall further into the crevasse, the crevasse which awaits our drop box. AND DROP FURTHER INTO HOLLOW!" When I think about, that doesn't sound so bad.

"**Ha! Oh man that's a good one. No really, I get it. Now, can we get off this –AAAAAAHHHH!" **Krieg flattens him on the hill and steps on his back, letting gravity play its role. **"The blood's swimming in my mobility cables!" **he gurgles out his complaints. And we slide down hard directly to the ground, dreaming this will send the little bastard straight to the robot afterlife.

I watch and watch and watch until there are some signs of life. Without so much as a groan, Claptrap got up with considerable ease. **"*phew*Thank my creators that they made me more durable for crazy minions like you, and they can bite me too! They called me a 'useless cup holder'." **That escalated expectantly.** *Sniff* I can't believe they said those mean things to me, the ones that they made and they only think of me as a tool!" **You_ kind of are._ "He reeks of charcoal bits! Let him be and let it be his finale!" Krieg retorts openly. _Well fine. It's not that I'm not able to say 'shut up' to him now can I? _**"Really I wish I was bipedal**_**."**__ If we can't kill you this far, then your wish is as good as ours._

89 slaughters – *SPAT*! … Okay, my fault. I mean 90 slaughters later and 'counting'; we finally arrive to a thick plate that anchors steadily between the alter-genetic specimen and I. I can't see it, but the tiny fissures making its way through the base, says that there's something inside and breathing. Krieg circles left and right, observing the rims and slits that could be removed without problems. It's not sealed or attached to the entrance, but the density's what's keeping it in place. The barricade that shields our catch of the day stands over 20 feet in height and 7 feet in width. Impressive is all I can say about it, since it's going to be a long process of B.S. and idiotic dialogues. Blue was over 40 feet, so capturing Purple shouldn't be a problem.

"**I'll handle everything without your help, for I, the only General Purpose Robot on this bastardly planet, can do this with my hands behind my back! Just watch me." **Thinking like he's some professional; his arms latch onto his back and he faces the center of the blockage. **"Hhhmmm. Yes, I see the problem." **He dramatically turns back, his arms still behind him, and bluntly tells us **"There is nothing I can do! Looks like you're going to be the busy one, big guy!"**… … I think I feel a couple of blood vessels popping.

Our bandaged fingers were merely centimeters away from turning this CL4P-TP unit into powdered ores. "I'LL SLAP YOU INTO A HOOD ORNAMENT!" _My thoughts exactly._ But I can't stop but sense a presence unlike any other and Krieg's no different. Immediately, we dash back with extreme acceleration. At that exact moment, a red beam crosses our path and sets our previous spot into flames. "Now I know you didn't think about harming a robot brotha, are you?" the feminine threatening voice came from a hovering robot, which seems off. Why is a deadly looking machine operating with such an adolescent tone?

"Come one, baby. Turn around for me." The thing does what is told and gyrates, revealing a young teen clinging on. "Nnnggh, just a second." She mumbles to herself and drops safely, thanks to her cybernetic arm.

Oh god, she's a mechromancer: a person highly advance on technological purposes and is considered the best of modern engineers. Her name's Gaige, has the highest bounty and is only 17 years old. But why is she here?

"Hey baldy, I don't like how you abuse robots like they're as expendable as toilet paper." The energetic girl points her finger at us and then gives us two birdies with passion. But really, who doesn't abuse the vulnerable thing? Krieg's only paying attention to ground, finding it more interesting than what's in front of us.

"Not talking, huh? Whateves, I'll kill you anyways." She yawns out. I'm not convinced that she'll be doing that. "~Ooh Deathtraaap~!" she calls for the destructive mechanism.

We were prepared, ready for the assault of laser beams and digistruct claws, but it was nowhere in our vision. The guard we made lowers a little, but it was a mistake. It was too late to hear the hovering; a hot sharp extension bats our right rib and launches us several yards near the harsh pool of acid. Two of our ribs are fractured. That was too close of a call. Krieg got back up unguarded and less worried. "Get ready for the boom train! We'll be collecting your tickets and the BATHROOM'S WHERE YOU'LL SIT!" _Look at what you've done; you made him happy._

It was a good 30 second battle of swishing metal and pec flexing. We're winning so far; our opponent lost an arm and got a few broken joints. He better make this quick; our rib's stabbing our lungs with each step.

"Ah what!? He's supposed to be unstoppable!" Gaige pounds her fists on the boulder she's resting on in a childish way. "You're not gonna win after this. Deathtrap, roll the steel thing at that son of a whore!" We were about to finish it off, but it backs away and floats to the Round door that blocks Purple. This has to be a joke. If we couldn't remove it, how'd you expect that to even roll it?

Man, was I wrong. Using all of its power with one hand, 'Deathtrap' twists the door and drives it toward us like a freight train. I don't know why I'm thinking of this right now, but where's Claptrap?

Right on cue, Claptrap passes by us while screaming **"Holy lopsided testicles! Run away!"** Krieg dodges the incoming wheel and observes the open route. A glimpse of purple shines in the dark passage way. There was no doubt that it was the creature we sought for. Standing over 15 feet, it roars at anyone in its territory. It may not look powerful, but I see four legs rather than three. This can be risky.

"We got a battle royal, bitches!" Gaige claps her hands together, no longer caring what happens to her creation. Where's alcohol when you need one?

* * *

**A/N: Hello everyone and t****hank you for those that gave out suggestions and **advice. Sorry if this took a while, but at least it's twice as long as the other chapters. I'm still running out of ideas on what to do with the next one coming up. So if there's any concerns with this fanfic, please let me know.  



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